The age of upholstered privilege

May 11, 2026 Features / Columnists, Peeping Tom

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(Kaieteur News) – There was a time in Guyana when a concert was a beautiful democratic experience. A cane-cutter could stand next to a lawyer and both of them would sweat equally on the tarmac of the National Stadium while waiting for the headline act to arrive three hours late.

Nobody complained because suffering was felt by all whether you were rich or poor. Equality existed, not because we believed in philosophy, but because nobody had yet invented the VIP wristband.

Now, however, we have entered what sociologists may someday call the Age of Upholstered Privilege.
The bourgeoisie have decided that they can no longer attend public events with the public. Somewhere along the line they developed an allergy to ordinary people. Perhaps it spreads through proximity to people eating barbeque chicken from a Styrofoam box. And so every mega-concert in Guyana now resembles the seating arrangement on the Titanic shortly before impact.

There is the VIP section, the VVIP section, the Ultra-Premium Executive Experience section and, eventually, there may soon be a section simply called “People with Generational Wealth.” Meanwhile, the ordinary patrons are being shifted backwards.

It used to be that the ordinary man used to go early to get a prime position to see the artistes close up. But now the prime seatings go to those in the VIP and VVIP sections, which now also carries their own parking lot too.

If you can afford a VIP or VVIP ticket, you enter through a separate gate where there is no line. In fact, there is often somebody waiting to escort you personally, as though you are arriving for delicate peace talks in Geneva. You are given a bracelet, a cooler, imported cheese cubes and a chair. The bourgeoisie adore chairs. Chairs are central to the philosophy of privilege. The poor must stand because standing builds character.

Ten years ago everyone entered concerts the same way. Rich people stood shoulder to shoulder with vendors, minibus conductors, public servants and the occasional man who claimed he “knew the promoter personally.” There was dignity in the shared discomfort. If somebody stepped on your foot, it was usually a surgeon or a fisherman. Social barriers collapsed beneath the force of loud music and overproof rum.

But then the bourgeoisie discovered exclusivity. Suddenly they wanted “premium experiences.” They wished to sip wine while the masses sweated. They wanted elevated platforms from which they could observe ordinary people the way Victorian aristocrats once observed factory workers. The concert itself became secondary. The real attraction was not the artiste. It was separation.

You can see the same disease spreading through cricket. And also, in boxing.
Once upon a time, cricket in Guyana involved everybody suffering together in the stands. Rain fell on rich and poor equally. The sun roasted everybody without discrimination. If you wanted food, you joined a line that moved at the speed of constitutional reform.

Now we have VIP stands and tents. There are special lounges where food and drinks arrive magically without anybody having to shout, “Boss lady, two Banks and a chicken fried rice!” Wealthy patrons sit beneath shaded tents discussing investment while ordinary fans fight for visibility between two men waving flags the size of fishing nets.
The bourgeoisie no longer buy tickets. Tickets buy them.

They have private entrances and reserved parking. Soon there may be emotional support attendants whose sole duty is to reassure them they will never accidentally interact with someone earning minimum wage.

And the ordinary fan the same ordinary fan who supported cricket during those depressing periods is slowly being pushed backward, upward and outward. Some of them have to buy tickets in the underground market. Eventually the masses may have to watch CPL cricket from Essequibo through a telescope.

Of course, promoters love this arrangement because capitalism, unlike cricket, rewards boundaries. Why sell one ticket price when you can create twelve categories of human worth? Economically, it is brilliant.

What fascinates me is how quickly people accepted it. Human beings will tolerate astonishing inequalities once you place the word “VIP” on a banner. A man who would reject feudalism in politics will gladly embrace it for a concert featuring pyrotechnics and autotune. Or to sit in a special stand during CPL matches.

And so, as Independence approaches and Guyana prepares for another season of mega concerts, one cannot help but admire the efficiency with which class distinction has evolved. We have managed to transform events that once united rich and poor into carefully engineered social ecosystems.

The bourgeoisie now have their padded kingdoms near the stage while the ordinary citizens remain behind barricades staring forward like medieval peasants hoping to glimpse royalty.
But there is a way to retain privileges of the rich while giving dignity to the poor. Keep two concerts, one exclusively having VVIP prices and another strictly for general audience with one price and no special partitions.

Want to bet that this will never happen? After privilege is not simply to see the performers. It is also for some to announce one’s status.

(The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of this newspaper.)

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• age, cane-cutter, lawyer, National Stadium, Upholstered Privilege, VIP, VVIP

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